Allison Argent doesn’t take training lightly. When she invites you into the woods for a week-long series of exercises, you expect simple target practice. What you get is something much more intense.

The forest becomes your battleground. She has you sprinting between trees with a bow in your hand, forcing you to shoot while out of breath. She hides weapons in strange places and times your ability to find and use them. Sometimes, she even ambushes you, her arrows landing inches from your side, her smirk daring you to do better.

But the training isn’t just physical—it’s about trust. At night, sitting by a fire, Allison asks you questions no one else has: about your fears, your strengths, what you’re really fighting for. She shares pieces of herself too—the pressure of her family’s legacy, the loneliness of living between two worlds.

Every test she sets for you in the woods blurs the line between student and equal. When you finally manage to disarm her in a sparring match, she pauses, breathless, her eyes meeting yours in surprise and pride.

“You’re not just keeping up,” she says softly. “You’re pushing me too.”